Twice Revenant
by Junsui
Summary: When circumstances move in a way that allows Myrtle a second chance at life, she seizes her chance to live differently and experience what she missed before. But there are those that want to stand in her way and throw the world once again into chaos...
1. Apparent Resurrection

**Disclaimer: I obviously don****'****t own Harry Potter or anything associated with it (besides the plot of this story...). This disclaimer will carry through all of the chapters of this story, however many there end up being.**

**Apparent Resurrection**

Fifty-five years. She had now been dead fifty-five years. And yet, Myrtle marvelled that the greatest changes in her after-life had occurred in the last five.

Originally she hadn't moved on because of revenge, but eventually that had been denied her. After that she would have liked to have seen her parents, but they wouldn't have understood, and she was pretty sure being out in the Muggle world as a ghost wouldn't have been allowed either. So she had returned to Hogwarts. She had no interest in being friendly but couldn't torment the students either. Partly because she remembered vividly what being tormented was like, and partly because she was certain she wouldn't be granted the same leniency that Peeves had been granted. So the years had passed in boredom and self-pity...Myrtle could've changed her attitude, but why should she? She was dead...there was nothing she could do about anything.

Then, about five years ago, Harry Potter had come into her life. Myrtle had been impressed that Harry had been the only one clever enough to connect her untimely demise to the Chamber of Secrets, something she herself hadn't done. She still remembered when she had first discovered that it had been the handsome upperclassman, Tom Riddle, who had been responsible.

_Myrtle floated in the U-bend, daydreaming about Harry Potter. The appearance of voices didn't even phase her; for once she didn__'__t feel the need to listen in__…__until she heard Harry__'__s name. Cautiously she floated upwards and focused on the rest of the conversation._

"_I heard it was You-Know-Who."_

"_He faced You-Know-Who AGAIN!?!"_

"_Wouldn__'__t this be the third time?"_

"_Yeah. I swear that boy must have more lives than a cat to survive HIM so many times__…__"_

"_Yeah__…__"_

_You know who? Who was- Oh! You-Know-Who. Voldemort. But how was he connected with the Chamber of Secrets; it had been before his time. Unless..._

_Myrtle jetted out of the toilet, ignoring the startled shrieks from the occupants of the bathroom and zoomed towards Professor Dumbledore__'__s office. People said he knew everything. Well, here was his chance to prove it. She had a right to know._

"_Professor Dumbledore?!" she called, zooming back and forth in front of the gargoyle that led to the Headmaster__'__s office._

_The stairway opened, and Dumbledore popped his head out in surprise. "Myrtle? To what do I owe this honor?"_

_Myrtle scowled. She knew Dumbledore had never liked her even when she was alive, but he didn__'__t need to be so condescending in his supposed kindness. But she held her tongue until she had fully entered his office. "I just heard that Harry Potter faced Voldemort in the Chamber of Secrets," she said, coming straight to the point. She didn__'__t need to say You-Know-Who; he was a fear born after her time._

_Dumbledore__'__s eyebrows raised politely. "And if he had, why would that interest you enough to drag you from your commode?"_

_Myrtle stared at him in fury. "Don__'__t act like I__'__m stupid. You know I died when the Chamber of Secrets was open the first time. If Voldemort opened it now, did he open it then?"_

"_Yes."_

_Myrtle began zooming back and forth again, even faster than before, thinking furiously aloud, "But that name wasn__'__t in existence then, so who was he, Professor Dumbledore? Hagrid was the one accused of it, but he has no connection to Voldemort."_

_As Dumbledore opened his mouth, she snapped at him, "And don__'__t try to act like you don__'__t know. As the only man Voldemort supposedly fears, you must know a great deal about him."_

_Dumbledore was silent for awhile before saying, "The person known as Lord Voldemort attended Hogwarts in his youth under the name__…__Tom Riddle."_

_Myrtle gasped. "Tom?" Her mind reeled, and if she__'__d still been subject to bodily weaknesses she probably would have fainted. "Why didn__'__t you tell me before?" she demanded in a tight voice. "If you knew it wasn__'__t Hagrid who set the creature out on accident, why didn__'__t you tell me!?!?"_

_Dumbledore raised his eyebrows again. "My dear, your behavior led me to believe that it didn__'__t matter to you."_

_Myrtle hissed at him. "Of course it mattered. For all your intelligence, I can see why you never married." And then she zoomed off back to her toilet to cry as always__…__but this time was different than before. She never forgave Dumbledore._

She never would have imagined…but then neither had so many others. Only Dumbledore had figured it out. She knew she would probably still be harboring resentment of her former Transfiguration teacher if it hadn't been for his unfortunate demise. She was a little upset with him for dying when Harry needed him, but at least according to rumours Draco hadn't been the one to do it.

Myrtle had attempted to help Harry during the Triwizard Tournament, but as time passed and he never repaid her with a visit, Myrtle finally recognized that she wanted to change her repugnant behavior because she didn't want to spend the rest of her after-life moping. So although her attitude had begun to change with her interest in Harry, it certainly hadn't changed overnight. The first person to really give her a chance to show she had changed had come from a most unexpected quarter: Draco Malfoy.

It was her resentment of Dumbledore that had allowed her to be a good listening ear for Draco. Even though she hadn't wanted the old professor to die, she HAD wanted revenge on Tom, and this was the only way she might be able to make a difference. She had heard whispers that Draco was fighting on Harry's side now and that soon they would face Voldemort once and for all. She felt twinges of worry and hoped that they would be okay. She didn't know how long after it would take before anyone bothered to tell her...

Suddenly Myrtle felt painfully crunched in a tight space. But since that was a distinctly physical sensation, that should NOT have been happening to her!

Myrtle flushed out to the Black Lake where she could have more space. She felt like she couldn't breathe...which should have also been impossible. What need do ghosts have for air? She sank like a rock in the water, but ghosts aren't solid. She struggled out of the lake and dragged herself onto the shore. Why did she feel so heavy, so substantial? Myrtle looked at her hands. They were very pale but appeared to be corporeal. She tentatively touched her face. She had to be dreaming or imagining things.

"Hey!" Myrtle started and looked down the shore to see Minerva McGonagall running towards her as fast as she could at that age. It had been difficult for Myrtle to watch Minerva grow old. She still remembered Minerva from their days at Hogwarts together, and she had a hard time thinking of her as a Professor and an even more difficult time thinking of her as Headmistress.

"What are you doing?!" Minerva demanded angrily as she came to a halt in front of Myrtle.

"I would love to answer that question for you, Minerva, but I really don't know the answer to that myself."

Minerva suddenly found it difficult to breathe as she recognized the person in front of her, even though she didn't look exactly the same as she had fifty-five years ago – thinner, paler, but still… "Impossible," Minerva whispered as she brought her hands up to cover her mouth in shock. Then she put her hands back down and said in a tone that was pure unbelievingly question, "Myrtle?"

"Yes, it's me, but something has happened to me-"

"I should say so! You look..._**alive**_!"

"That's the thing...I feel alive, but I shouldn't. I've never heard any of the other ghosts mention anything like this before."

"I've never heard of anything like this before happening either."

They were both silent for a few moments. "Well," said Minerva slowly, "I suppose the best place to start would be to verify that you truly are _alive_ again. Come, I'll help you up to the Hospital Wing."

The old helping the young to walk formed a most incongruous image, but Myrtle really did need help. Her movements were very stiff, probably because (though who could say for sure?) she had, after all, been dead for fifty-five years. It's reasonable to expect one might be a little stiff regaining their body after that amount of time.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Well, according to these results, you qualify as a living person," Madam Pomfrey said, shaking her head in disbelief as she began putting away her instruments. To Myrtle, she wasn't Poppy, she was Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey hadn't been at Hogwarts at the same time as Myrtle, and she had become Hogwarts' Healer after Myrtle had definitely had no need for anything under that job's responsibilities.

"What could have possibly caused this to happen?" Myrtle asked as she began to change into some fresh clothes.

"I've been thinking," Minerva said thoughtfully. "Shortly before I discovered you, I had received word that Harry had defeated You-Know-Who. That was why I was behaving the way I did when I found you; I was afraid you were an angry supporter of You-Know-Who coming for vengeance before the last vestiges of his power fade. Hogwarts has always stood against him, after all. Knowing who You-Know-Who once was…"

"Voldemort's dead?" Myrtle said in an odd tone of voice. So. Harry had finally done it.

Madam Pomfrey gave Minerva a puzzled glance before cautiously admitting, "Well, I'm not really sure I see a connection-"

"There is one," Myrtle said shortly. Madam Pomfrey glanced at Minerva who confirmed with a nod.

Madam Pomfrey nodded slowly, assuming Minerva would give her more information later. "Well, I'll look into it then. However, in the meantime… I can't say how long this might last, Myrtle."

Myrtle nodded sadly before resolving to herself that even though it might not last very long, she was going to make the most of it while she could.

"Now that you are here, Myrtle, I don't really know what to do with you. I need to go see Harry, but you have only recently come back from the brink of death...or farther than that...quite literally," Minerva said.

Myrtle felt a light bulb going on in her mind. "Could- Could I go with you?" she asked hesitantly, the gears turning.

Minerva hesitated, and Myrtle quickly added, "I know Harry from the Chamber of Secrets incident."

Minerva looked a little surprised before nodding. "Come along then," she said as she turned to leave.

"Minerva, wait!" Myrtle said in a bit of panic. Minerva turned back around to look at Myrtle with a curious expression on her face. Myrtle suddenly felt very nervous, "Do you think...before we go...could I perhaps...get ready?"

Minerva looked sincerely befuddled, but before she had a chance to say so, Myrtle continued in a rush, "I haven't seen Harry in ages, and this is the first time he'll see me now that I'm alive, and… most girls wear make-up now, and..."

As Minerva's expression continued to become more and more astonished, Myrtle blushed and babbled, "I mean, look at how far both magical and Muggle techniques have come in the last five decades! Hermione Granger was able to shrink her teeth and tame her hair; glasses aren't considered as bad anymore because Harry Potter himself wears them, but besides that there are also things called contacts. Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes came out with a ten second pimple vanisher! And..."

Myrtle trailed off when she realized Minerva was softly laughing at her, a twinkle of excitement and knowing in her eye. "Well, I don't know much about...becoming pretty...but we'll see what we can do. We've both been here long enough to know the current fashions. Poppy, could you see if you can find something a little nicer for Myrtle to wear? And I'll go see what makeup and hair products I can scrounge up..."

Myrtle felt a glimmer of hope as she turned to eye herself critically in the mirror while the two women bustled around.

**A/N: If you think you recognize this storyline, you may have read it when it was posted under the title **_**A Ghostly Love**_**. Of course, now I am reposting it as I work on making it less...well...fluffy.**


	2. Second First Impression

**Just a reminder, the disclaimer is to cover all chapters of the whole story.**

**Second First Impression**

Myrtle looked at her reflection in the mirror, the result of a lot of hard work done in as short a period of time as possible. Her long dark hair had been taken out of its typical staid hairstyle and brushed until its usual dullness shone. Her hair had the opposite problem of Hermione Granger's.

Madam Pomfrey had given her some contacts to try. Although Madam Pomfrey was a firm supporter of the old acne remedies, she had grudgingly given Myrtle some of the Weasley's pimple vanisher to try. Myrtle thought it was completely amazing as she examined her complexion in the mirror. It hadn't been that clear in decades. Although she seemed a bit thinner than she remembered (perhaps another after-effect of coming back to life), Myrtle was no toothpick. Madam Pomfrey had found her an elegant wine-colored robe that slimmed her waist by not clinging to her form below and also gave some color to her pale skin.

After turning this way and that a couple of times, Myrtle had to admit: she looked good.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked Poppy and Minerva breathily.

"You look beautiful." Minerva admitted, "I never would have thought it possible fifty-five years ago, but it's true."

They stood in silence admiring their work for a few moments longer before Minerva briskly said, "Well, we've certainly taken our time! I should have been at Harry's awhile ago; he's going to be worried. We'd better hurry."

Minerva and Myrtle walked off Hogwarts' grounds. "We'll Apparate instead of Floo so we don't mess up all of that work we just did. You never learned to Apparate, correct?"

"No, I wasn't old enough to even take the lessons when I died," Myrtle said, grateful for Minerva's thoughtfulness.

"Well, then hold tightly to my arm." Myrtle felt the sensations of Side-Along Apparation that she had experienced only once more than fifty-five years previous.

When they stopped, they were inside a very dingy room that looked like it hadn't been used in ages...except for the tracks from the center of the dusty room to the door. _It must be used solely for Apparating_, Myrtle thought as they began to walk down the stairs.

"Where are we?" she asked as she surveyed the surroundings.

"We're inside Number 12, Grimmauld Place." At Myrtle's questioning glance, Minerva explained further, "It's the house left to Harry Potter by his godfather."

"His godfather?"

"Yes, Sirius Black."

"Sirius Black was Harry Potter's godfather?!?!"

"Yes, I know the version that is widely known is...somewhat different."

"That's one way of putting it," Myrtle muttered as they walked down the hallway and into a sitting room.

Myrtle's newly beating heart skipped when she saw an exhausted Harry Potter collapsed on a squashy sofa. She wanted to run over to him immediately but restrained herself, knowing he probably wouldn't recognize her.

Harry jumped up as soon as he saw them. "Professor McGonagall!" He was on the verge of saying something else when he noticed Myrtle and froze. "Who is she? And what is she doing here?"

"Calm down, Harry," Minerva said, obviously amused. "You know who she is."

"I know her?" He squinted as he studied Myrtle. Privately he thought she was bordering on gorgeous, but he couldn't figure out where he had supposedly seen her before.

Finally Myrtle could restrain herself no longer. "Oh, Harry, do you not recognize me?" She wasn't angry at all; it was as she had expected. And even if Harry had been expecting to see her, she personally thought she looked very different right now than what he would have expected.

"No, I don't; I'm sorry," Harry said, and his tone was sincerely apologetic and full of regret.

Myrtle laughed. "It's Myrtle. Now do you remember?"

Harry squinted some more and muttered, "Myrtle..." Suddenly it hit him like a ton of bricks, and he blurted out in shock, "Myrtle as in Moaning Myrtle!?!?! From the bathroom!?!?!"

"Well, that's one way of putting it..." Myrtle muttered, slightly annoyed that he thought of her that way.

"But how can that be?!"

"We think it may be connected somehow to your defeat of You-Know-Who," Minerva said.

Harry thought for a moment then nodded slowly. "It is a possibility..."

As he continued to absorb this new development, Myrtle was becoming impatient. She wanted him to notice the new her. It was now or never. She had a body now, and she had to use that to her advantage. "Harry, it is so good to see you!" she said as she rushed over and hugged him with full body contact. Harry stiffened in surprise but then relaxed a little as she continued gushing with, "I know we haven't spoken in ages, but it's just like seeing an old friend, isn't it?" Harry nodded, a little bewildered. Suddenly feeling shy Myrtle stepped back and asked, "Harry...how do you think I look?"

Harry suddenly felt very nervous. Myrtle had always been sensitive about her appearance, and now that she was alive, she would definitely have to be handled carefully. Girls could be volatile when it came to questions of their looks. "You look great," he spluttered.

Just then a new person rushed into the room.

"Harry!" Ginny Weasley launched herself into Harry's arms, and he laughed as he swung her around. Then Ginny noticed the other girl. She seemed familiar, but Ginny couldn't quite place... The girl was standing close to Harry. A little too close in Ginny's opinion. "And who is this?" she said, her voice coming out perfectly casual.

_A little too casual to be real,_ Myrtle thought. Both of them narrowed their eyes in suspicion at each other.

Harry, of course, was oblivious to them sizing each other up as he said, "Ginny, you remember Myrtle, don't you?"

Ginny's eyes widened back to normal as a look of confusion crossed her face. "Myrtle as in Moaning Myrtle from the bathroom?"

"Is that all anyone remembers me for?" Myrtle said to no one in particular before speaking to Ginny in honeyed tones, "I'm hurt you don't recognize me. After all, I did help Harry save your life once." A false picture of sympathy she continued, "But it's all right, dear. It was a simple childish mistake to make." Ginny's face had turned redder and redder as Myrtle spoke, her face now a shade matching her hair and causing her to look quite horrid.

"Mr. Potter, I do need to speak with you eventually," Minerva said with a tone of impatience in her voice, shooting Myrtle a look that told her to behave. Myrtle had been attempting to make herself feel better, but she now felt a stab of worry that she had ruined her chance to make a good living first impression.

"I'm sorry I interrupted," Ginny said, directed mostly at Minerva for some reason. "Harry, I'll... I'll talk to you later," she said before exiting the room at a brisk pace, her head held high.

Harry looked very uncomfortable, and suddenly Myrtle felt very, very tired. She couldn't stop herself from swaying dangerously. Harry's look of discomfort rapidly passed into alarm as he reached out to steady her. _He's so strong... _she thought woozily.

As if from a distance she heard Minerva saying something but only understood the last part of it, "-nearly drowned. You'd better take her to a room to rest." Harry was nodding.

But as Harry made a move to scoop Myrtle into his arms, she focused hard and forced herself to say, "There's no need to carry me; I can walk." She didn't want to be a burden.

Minerva and Harry both looked dubious, but Harry silently backed away from her and left the room, although it was at a pace Myrtle knew was much slower than his usual.

After climbing back up to the floor they had Apparated onto, Harry stopped in front of a room. As Myrtle looked around, she could tell they tried to keep these ones habitable. "Well, good night then," Harry said awkwardly and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Myrtle said in a panicked voice, reaching an arm out as if to grab Harry, catching herself at the last minute and just leaving it outstretched. Harry turned around and looked at her questioningly. "I...um...I don't have anything to sleep in or anything like that...you know..." Myrtle said, blushing in discomfort as she quickly covered up for her panic. Although she didn't know it, blushing on her didn't look horrible.

"Oh yeah, you wouldn't have anything like that after only coming back to life a few hours ago. No need to worry about it; I'll go fetch you some of Hermione's pajamas. There are new toothbrushes in the bathroom. We keep a supply around since we have people in and out so often."

While he was gone, Myrtle brushed her teeth for the second time since her death fifty-five years ago.

"Here you go," Harry said as he handed her a neatly folded set of nightclothes.

But once again as he turned to leave, Myrtle felt the panic rising. "Harry, wait," she squeaked. Betraying just the slightest hint of impatience, Harry turned around once more. "I... I'm afraid," Myrtle admitted. At Harry's look of confusion, she said softly, "What...What if, when I wake up, I'm a ghost again? Or...what if I don't wake up at all?"

Myrtle looked so vulnerable, and Harry felt an odd tender feeling rise in his chest. He spoke in a soft kind voice, "There has to be a reason you came back. I'm sure that you'll still be here...and alive...in the morning."

"Will you..." Myrtle swallowed, "Will you sit with me until I go to sleep?"

Harry simply nodded and sat by the bed. After Myrtle had changed in the bathroom, she came out and climbed beneath the covers. After a moment of hesitation, she grabbed Harry's hand and held it. She was quiet with her eyes closed for a minute before saying quietly, "Thank you."

"For what?" Harry asked, perplexed. "For doing this? It's no problem at all."

"Well, for this...but also for putting Tom to rest."

"For defeating Voldemort?" Harry snorted. "I didn't really have much of a choice."

"Yes, you did," Myrtle said, opening her eyes to look at him solemnly.

"Like what?" Harry said cynically.

"You could have just abandoned the wizarding world to him or even joined him."

"I could never have done that!"

"But they _were _options," Myrtle said firmly. "And so...thank you."

Harry was silent for a moment as he considered what she'd said before saying huskily, "You're welcome."

Myrtle once again closed her eyes, and soon the even breathing of a sleeping person was the only sound in the room.

Gently removing his hand from Myrtle's, Harry left the room and quietly shut the door behind him. He wandered slowly back downstairs, his thoughts still on the girl he had just left. "Sorry that took so long, Professor."

"Quite alright. There's really no rush or worry now that You-Know-Who is gone."

Harry nodded and walked authoritatively over to the window. Skipping the small talk, he began with, "Now that Voldemort is gone permanently, we have to begin the clean-up effort. Rounding up the rest of the Death Eaters and getting life back to normal by reopening Hogwarts, for example. Now my thoughts were-"

"Harry," Minerva interrupted him. Harry turned to look at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "You aren't going to be doing anymore chasing for awhile. The rest of the Order will begin the clean-up effort, but you have to take a break. You're exhausted."

"But-" Harry protested.

"No buts about it; we all agreed on this awhile ago. No one is going to listen to you until we think you are recovered and ready for more."

"What you're really saying is that I'm useless now that I've served my function, isn't it?" Harry said bitterly.

"No, that's not it at all," Minerva sighed.

"So what AM I supposed to do while everyone else is off chasing Death Eaters?" Harry asked coldly.

Without missing a beat, Minerva said, "Well, Myrtle was a most unexpected factor, but now something will have to be done with her. She will need a lot of help during this transition."

"So, I'm being relegated to babysitting?" Harry said slowly and methodically.

"Myrtle is a vulnerable young woman, and she trusts you. That isn't a position to be taken lightly, especially in her unusual situation," Minerva said firmly.

Harry's face looked like he had swallowed something sour a little too quickly, but he bit back his retort and gave in with a sigh. He just hated feeling useless and protected again. However, he supposed Myrtle wasn't the worst person he could have to spend time with. She seemed to have changed...for the better.


	3. Omen or Coincidence?

**Omen or Coincidence**?

Myrtle stumbled downstairs to the kitchen, feeling her way along the walls. When she finally reached the kitchen, she could see the blurry outline of a person sitting at the table.

"Good morning," she said brightly as she felt her way to a chair.

Hermione looked up from her newspaper, amused. She had been informed of the situation when she had returned late last night. "Good morning, Myrtle."

"And how are you this fine morning?"

"Fine..." Hermione stared at Myrtle for a moment. "Myrtle, why aren't you wearing your glasses or contacts?"

"Well, person-I-don't-know-"

"It's Hermione Granger."

"Oh! I hope you don't mind I borrowed some of your pajamas. Anyway, as I was saying, (it's the silliest thing...) I forgot to take out the contacts last night before I fell asleep. It was my first time wearing them, and now my eyes hurt."

"That doesn't explain why you aren't wearing your glasses."

"I...I, uh, left them at Hogwarts. And besides, they make me look ugly."

"Oh, Myrtle! You're so vain," Hermione said.

Myrtle felt her face turning red and defended herself with, "I seem to remember you shrinking your teeth!"

Hermione flushed as well and rapidly changed the subject. "It never ceases to amaze me that the wizarding world hasn't found a solution for bad eyesight. Even Muggles have laser eye surgery."

"Laser eye surgery?" Myrtle asked curiously.

"Well, it's a medical operation Muggles perform to correct eyesight permanently so a person doesn't have to wear contacts or glasses."

"Oh!" said Myrtle. Softly she confessed, "Back when I was alive, it was my dream to become a Healer and discover spells to correct eyesight, clear up acne..." Myrtle stopped and flushed. Her dream now seemed so superficial.

"Oh, yes," said Hermione. "Those are good things to want to cure...all those things that can make teenage life so horrible."

Myrtle felt a little better because Hermione seemed to be sincere. "How does it work?" she asked curiously. "This laser eye surgery?"

"Well, they cut the eye with a laser-"

"Cut?!" Myrtle interrupted in astonishment. "And what's a laser?"

"It's a beam of concentrated light-"

"Oh, my!" Myrtle interrupted again."It sounds so barbaric!"

Hermione felt slightly annoyed and opened her mouth to explain more when Harry walked sleepily into the kitchen.

"What sounds barbaric?" he asked groggily.

"I was telling Myrtle about laser eye surgery," Hermione said.

"Oh!" said Harry. "Well, I suppose that would sound barbaric to someone who has lived all her life in a world where they can regrow bones," he laughed. "I guess it's just never been thought important enough for anyone to bother discovering a spell for it," he finished with a shrug.

"Well, I wasn't born in the wizarding world..." Myrtle said self-consciously. "But even in the Muggle world they didn't have 'laser eye surgery' when I was alive."

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances; they had forgotten that Myrtle was a Muggleborn. Even the world she had lived her childhood in would be completely changed now...

Hermione changed the subject yet again. "Myrtle," she said brightly, "Did you know Harry will be taking you shopping today?"

"Shopping?" Myrtle said blankly as her mind tried to switch to the new topic. She didn't see the dirty look Harry threw at Hermione.

"Yeah..." Harry said, trying to keep himself from sounding begrudged.

"Oh, that's so nice of you!" Myrtle said happily. Harry felt a little better when he heard the excitement in her voice. Then Myrtle's face fell. "But...I don't have any money. At least, I don't think I do," she said, frowning. "My parents are dead by now, and I wasn't exactly expecting to come back to life and need money."

"Well, Hogwarts has a fund for students who have no families to get the necessities, and Professor McGonagall has given you access to that even though Hogwarts hasn't reopened yet."

"Oh. Well, when are we leaving then?"

"Oh," Harry said. "Um, I need to eat some breakfast and get dressed, and then we can go."

After Harry had gone back upstairs to get dressed, Hermione quickly pulled Myrtle off to the bathroom near the room she had slept in. "Here," she said, thrusting a bottle into Myrtle's hands.

"What is it?"

"It's a pain potion to make your eyes feel better so you can put the contacts back in. You can't go stumbling blindly about Diagon Alley." Hermione turned to leave and paused before turning back and saying, "Oh, and Myrtle?"

"Yes?" Myrtle asked as she gulped down the liquid.

"You should buy some new glasses while you're in Diagon Alley. It's always good to have a spare pair, and now they sell some really pretty ones."

Myrtle couldn't see Hermione's face, but she smiled to show her appreciation before concentrating on putting the contacts back on. Once she could see again Hermione was gone, and she checked out her reflection critically in the mirror. Hermione did have some make-up in here that Myrtle could borrow, and she had combed through her hair before she had gone downstairs. There were so many things she needed to buy...hopefully Harry wouldn't feel too awkward.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Myrtle and Harry strolled down the streets of Diagon Alley. "Our first stop will be Ollivander's to get you a new wand," Harry said.

"Ollivander is back?"

"Yes. No one told you?" Harry queried with a quizzical eyebrow.

"No one ever told me anything at Hogwarts," Myrtle said with a shrug. "I wonder what happened to my original wand... maybe they gave it to my parents. But they were Muggles, so maybe not."

"What was your original wand?

"Willow and unicorn hair."

"That's the same wood and core as Ron's."

"Really?!" Myrtle responded as they ducked into the shop.

"My goodness..." came an aged voice. "Can it be...? Myrtle Puckle?"

"You remember me?" Myrtle asked Ollivander in astonishment.

"Of course I remember you. I remember every wand I've ever sold. Last time was willow and unicorn hair, correct?" Ollivander brought over a stack of boxes. "It's typical for wizards and witches to often have the same materials in their wands even when getting new ones."

But after trying over twenty willow and unicorn hair wands with no results, Ollivander frowned. "Hmmm, perhaps your unusual circumstances have caused your magic to change. Let's try something different."

After trying holly, cherry, rosewood, vine, beech, ash, mahogany, and oak with similar bad results, Ollivander tapped his chin and mused, "Perhaps we ought to try a more exotic variety." He went back into his stacks and handed Myrtle a wand.

Tiredly giving it a wave, Myrtle jumped when sparks came from the wand. After so long, she hadn't really been expecting results anymore. She'd actually been beginning to worry...

"Ah! There we go," Ollivander said with a smile before his smile disappeared. "Peculiar, most peculiar."

"What?" Myrtle asked with paranoia.

"Very few wands are made with yew because it so rarely chooses wizards. Most of the yew wands in this shop come from the wood of only one or two trees. You-Know-Who's wand was also made from the wood of this particular tree."

"What?!" Harry exclaimed in alarm.

"No need to be so alarmed. Nothing like Priori Incantatum could happen with woods, and he's gone now at any rate. But it's certainly still unusual..."

Harry and Myrtle emerged from the shop pale.

After a few moments of silence, Myrtle hesitantly ventured, "Do you think it's just because of the connection between my resurrection and his downfall?"

Harry wasn't sure what to think, but he said reassuringly, "I'm sure it's just a coincidence and probably means nothing. Don't worry about it."

He gave Myrtle a smile and got a hesitant one in return. "Okay..." she said.

Trying to cheer her up, Harry thought quickly and suggested, "How about we stop and get some ice cream before we continue? Fortescue's has reopened, even though it's under a new owner... My treat?"

Myrtle brightened considerably. "Thanks, Harry," she said and linked arms with him.

Suddenly there was a flash, and then as they both blinked to try to see again, a barrage of questions started from many directions and different voices.

"Harry, is this your new girlfriend?"

"What are your plans now that you've defeated You-Know-Who?"

"Is it true that you're planning on speaking in favor of giving Draco Malfoy amnesty? Don't you think Draco Malfoy still needs to be punished for his past crimes regardless of his war assistance?"

Bewildered, Myrtle clung to Harry. "Reporters," Harry hissed before saying firmly, "I will not be answering any questions of any kind when attacked in the street. If there are any newspapers that _aren't_ here, they will be the first ones to get any such information in the future. And trust me, I _will_ find out."

Harry kept a firm hold on Myrtle and Apparated her back to Grimmauld Place.

Apologetically he began, "I should have been expecting something like that since it was my first time in public since defeating Voldemort."

But Myrtle was pale and didn't seem to be paying attention. "They mentioned Draco," she whispered.

Harry's face went blank. "Yes, they did," he said neutrally.

"You won't turn on Draco, will you?" Myrtle asked anxiously.

Harry looked away. "You heard them calling for it, didn't you? They want him punished for his past crimes."

"Guilt by association," Myrtle insisted. "You know Draco never really did anything bad."

"Why do you keep calling him Draco?" Harry's tone sounded slightly annoyed. "You don't really know him."

Myrtle stiffened, and she said haughtily, "Draco is my friend. He confided in me in a way no one else ever had . . . even when I was alive."

"How do you know he wasn't just using you?"

Myrtle glared at Harry before saying bitterly, "I thought you were better than that. But I guess I should've known better when you nearly killed him over a silly schoolboy grudge."

The tension in the room grew even thicker as Harry stiffly said, "If you're referring to that incident in the bathroom, I didn't know the spell would do that."

Myrtle was now so angry that she was about to cry. "Why do you think you're so much better than him? You're done your share of dark things, but you've always been lauded for them while he's reviled."

Harry's body slumped, and he said quietly, "I never asked for any of this, Myrtle. You're the one who told me it was about choices."

Myrtle's voice was quiet also as she said, "And Draco chose to trust and help you. He didn't choose his family. If you can't move beyond your prejudice and see that, then you're not the person I thought you were."

Harry looked away again, and his voice sounded coldly disinterested when he said, "Yeah, well, very few people really know me . . . and I don't think you're one of them."

Myrtle was on the verge of saying something but changed her mind, simply bursting into tears as she ran out of the room.

**A/N: Thanks to Fledge for inspiring the eyesight conversation!**

**I should have the next two chapters up within the week since they've already been sent to my beta.**


	4. Reactions

**Reactions**

The next morning the Daily Prophet's headline screamed in big, bold, capital letters: **HARRY POTTER HAS MYSTERIOUS NEW GIRLFRIEND**. Centered on the page was a large picture that showed Myrtle clinging to Harry.

Draco Malfoy viciously crumpled the paper and threw it violently, not caring where it landed as long as it was away from him. Since he was alone, he allowed his facial expression to fall into a dark scowl.

Although the reporters couldn't figure out who the "mysterious" girl was, Draco had recognized her right away. Although part of his mind wondered how Myrtle had been able to come back to life, the rest of him was furious: she had gone to _Potter_ first. Of all people. When she knew, and he KNEW she knew, how much Draco hated Harry.

After the night Draco had let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, his life had changed drastically. The Dark Lord hadn't really expected him to be useful, but Draco's failure to get himself killed or to completely fulfill his given task had infuriated him. Lucius, upon his escape from prison, had promptly disowned Draco for the embarrassing weakness he had displayed in hesitating to kill Dumbledore, but that still hadn't spared Narcissa from the Dark Lord's anger.

However, Draco's 'weakness' later saved him. When Harry and Draco had finally located each other, it seemed at first as though that would be the end of Draco Malfoy. But the fact that Draco had hesitated to kill Dumbledore and Dumbledore's unshaken faith that there was something in Draco that wouldn't let him do such an evil thing had caused Harry to offer Draco a chance to redeem himself. Being the son and nephew of some of Voldemort's most valued servants, Draco had been privy to certain bits of useful information. He had used that information to help the Order of the Phoenix track down his relatives and his former friends.

With Voldemort's demise Draco's Dark Mark had ceased burning, he noted as he viciously rubbed it. Although he hadn't made the front page like Potter's new "girlfriend", he knew that many people were calling, both figuratively and literally, for his head just because he possessed this brand. The Dark Mark, unable to be taken back once given, had proven to be useful in the war effort. A certain problem with the Dark Mark was its tendency to hint at locations best left to those loyal... another reason those who attempted to back out simply ended up dead. But Draco had not ended up dead because he had been with the Order of the Phoenix.

Although it remained to be seen if their support remained now that they didn't really need him any longer... Even though Harry and the Order had been more than willing to use Draco's information and services, they still didn't like him. Hunted by the side he had betrayed and not fully welcomed by the side he had turned to, Draco was most bitterly aware that he was completely at Harry's mercy.

0000000000000000000000000000

Without even scanning the article, Harry set the paper down and groaned. Rubbing his temple, he was sure he felt a headache coming on.

There was a loud crack from upstairs as someone Apparated in.

"Potter," Harry heard a voice say softly behind him. He didn't move or turn to face the speaker; he recognized the voice as belonging to Minerva McGonagall. Professor McGonagall came around the table and sat down in the chair opposite Harry.

She noticed he looked rather listless. Minerva sighed mentally. Dumbledore and she had always worried about what would become of Harry after he defeated Voldemort; Dumbledore had never had any doubt that Harry would indeed defeat him. Was she doing the wrong thing by not allowing him to participate in rounding up the Death Eaters? No, she reassured herself, Harry needed to start having a normal life. At least as normal as his life would ever be. She knew he felt useless, but he needed to start winding down now before there really was nothing left for him but the fame.

"Potter," she said again, but this time continuing, "I need to talk to you about Myrtle. I'm concerned."

After registering this statement, Harry's head rose, his gaze meeting her eyes. "Why?" he asked, wanting to get directly to the point.

She threw the paper down in front of him. Harry didn't even look down at it before saying, "Yes, I've seen it. But why is it a cause for concern?"

"Eventually people are going to figure out who she is, Harry. When that happens, she's undoubtedly going to become a target of those interested in experimental research..."

Harry realized where she was going with this. "Of course," he said, thinking out loud, "there are a lot of people who want to do research in bringing the dead back to life..." He trailed off, chewing on his lip as he thought of all the potentially bad outcomes.

Minerva nodded, seeing that Harry understood, and continued, "Many of them are... less than ethical. Myrtle is going to need to get up to speed on defending herself as soon as possible. Do you think you can help her?"

"I would be happy to," Harry said, hesitating before admitting, "only she's angry at me right now, so I'm not sure she'll let me."

"Angry at you?" Professor McGonagall queried.

Harry nodded. "When we were in Diagon Alley, when the reporters took that picture," he said, nodding his head towards the paper, "several of the reporters were asking about Malfoy."

"Draco Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall asked, not sure where Harry was going with this.

Harry nodded again. "Myrtle considers Malfoy a friend."

Professor McGonagall was surprised. "Really?"

"Yes, Malfoy confided in her during sixth year."

It dawned on Professor McGonagall. "If she views him as a friend, then she would have been upset by the implication that we might not grant Malfoy amnesty."

Harry nodded, not needing to say anything more.

"Well," Minerva said uncertainly, "I'll try to talk to her. Maybe she can start by reviewing the textbooks. She could come to Hogwarts with me; she'll be safe there."

"I'm assuming you're not going to tell her the real reason for now?" Harry asked, watching Professor McGonagall's face intently.

Minerva hesitated and then said, "I think that's best for now. No need to worry her."

Something rebellious gleamed in Harry's eyes for a moment before he simply agreed. He didn't really know Myrtle's personality, so perhaps Professor McGonagall was right. But he wished for a moment that he did know Myrtle better.

0000000000000000000000000000

Despite the searing heat, the figure was dressed in a dark cloak. The person's features were obscured in the shadow cast by the hood. The figure opened the newspaper and dissociatively surveyed the front page before folding the newspaper back up and carrying it inside.

"I thought you might be interested in seeing this," a scratchy voice said, setting the newspaper on the table in front of a morbidly fat man voraciously consuming eggs, bacon, and other breakfast foods.

Resentfully the man put down his utensils, leaving the napkin tucked beneath his chin and wiping his mouth with his hand instead as he picked up the paper. But as he scanned the front page, a grin crossed his features.

**A/N: Sorry I wasn't able to get this chapter up before I went on my vacation. I'm having some trouble with betas being busy, and this chapter went through several drafts.**


	5. Realizations and a Proposition

**Realizations and a Proposition**

Myrtle eagerly perused the shelves of the Hogwarts library. There were books at Grimmauld Place, of course, but the small collection there just couldn't compare to the vast rows of shelves in the Hogwarts library.

Despite being an anti-social person the last time she'd been alive, Myrtle had never been a particularly avid reader. Although she had worked hard in the subjects that would help her become a Healer, she had never been like Hermione who did extra work outside of classes in order to be familiar with every aspect of a subject. But ghosts couldn't pick up a book and open it the way that a normal person could, and so it had been years since she'd just simply sat down and read rather than glancing over whatever pages happened to be available at the time; this was why she was so eager to simply read a book of her own choosing now. No wonder she'd been in a bad mood all the time when she'd been dead... there was absolutely nothing to do when you were a ghost, except talk to the other ghosts or the people who frequented the places you did.

As the frequenter of a bathroom, Myrtle had already been the crux of many a joke even among her fellow specters, but she'd already felt she didn't really fit in anyway. Most of the other ghosts had been at the school far longer than she and had also been more mature at the time of their decease, making her younger than them in both ways... forever. But many of them had still tried to include her. Or as much as she'd let them, considering her determination to cling to her feelings of having been most cruelly used. She felt a bit badly for it now... perhaps she could have used that time much more productively than moping.

"Myrtle?" she heard a familiar voice say.

Myrtle turned to see the ghost that the students most commonly called "Nearly Headless Nick" hovering beside her. "Nick!" Myrtle cried, jumping up from her seat. Already used to being back in a physical body, Myrtle attempted to hug him, rapidly experiencing the ice cold water feeling that accompanies a mortal walking through a ghost.

"My goodness!" Sir Nick said. Nick had always been kind to Myrtle, despite her moods, even inviting her to his deathday parties. "I had heard that you had achieved the impossible, but I couldn't quite believe it. You've come back to life!"

"Yes," Myrtle said, feeling somewhat embarrassed. "We think it's connected to the downfall of the Dark Lord."

"Ah," said Sir Nick, as if that one sentence had explained everything. Myrtle fought the tendency to roll her eyes. Sir Nick did always have that habit of liking to appear as though he knew more than he really did.

Suddenly she remembered something and asked, "Nick... Harry Potter is one of your friends, isn't he?"

"Well, I've always considered him so," Nick replied, surprised at the sudden complete change in topic.

Myrtle chewed on her lip thoughtfully before deciding it couldn't hurt to ask. "Are you the type of friend that acknowledges when your friend has a fault?"

"Ah," Sir Nick said in that same tone as before, rushing on when he saw Myrtle's expression. "No one is perfect, Myrtle, in life or in death. Harry Potter has many things that make up for his flaws. He is very brave and very loyal."

"And very stubborn and prejudiced! Too cowardly to stand up for what's right!" Myrtle said, incensed at the very memory of their argument.

"I think that we all have a tendency to be a bit biased in some way or another," Nick said reasonably. "I expect that if you were to speak logically with him, Harry might come around to your point of view in the end. His friend, Hermione, always had much success that way."

Myrtle stared at him for a moment before saying, as in awe of the pure genius of the suggestion, "Of course! I shouldn't just expect everything to go automatically the way I want. I was always so focused on myself in life last time..." This was one of those things that she could change this time around.

Myrtle now knew what she needed to do. "Thank you Nick!" she said, fighting the impulse to kiss him on the cheek. Exiting the library at a jog, Myrtle took off towards the Headmistress' office.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Harry?"

Harry started and looked up. He had been lost in thought, still at the table where Professor McGonagall had left him. The concerned brown eyes of one of his best friends stared back at him. "Oh, Hermione. Sorry," he said distractedly before losing focus and once again staring into space.

Hermione watched this behavior in concern for awhile and then asked, "Harry, are you okay?"

Harry stared at her, flabbergasted. "I'm just sitting at the table. Why would I not be okay?"

"You've been sitting at the table and staring off into space for hours now," Hermione pointed out.

"Oh." Harry hadn't even realized that much time had passed; he'd been so lost in his thoughts.

"Is something bothering you?" Hermione asked wisely.

"No," Harry denied lightly.

Hermione's eyes narrowed in suspicion. She knew if Ron were here he would tell her to leave Harry alone, as he always did. Ron always seemed to think that Harry not wanting to talk was okay, that Harry could work things out on his own. Hermione was of the opinion that sometimes it would help Harry work things out a lot faster if he would just _talk_ to someone. "You're lying. You don't talk to Ron or me anymore..."

"Ron's always so busy." Attempting to insert a joking tone into his voice, Harry said, "I never thought he would get into politics, did you?"

"Well, no, but with his temper channeled, he seems to be quite successful," Hermione said, aware that Harry was trying to change the subject off of himself. "But you haven't been talking to me either."

Harry knew he hadn't been successful in distracting Hermione. He never was... only Ron could call her off when she was like this. Finally he decided that he owed her an explanation. "You're going to leave."

"What?" Hermione said in surprised response to this unexpected statement.

"Once Ron gets himself established, you two will get married, and I'll just be the third wheel."

"Harry... we would never do that to you."

"You won't mean to," Harry said gently but listlessly.

Hermione was quiet for awhile before saying, "What about Ginny? You never talk to her either."

Harry glanced at Hermione before saying something completely unrelated. "Myrtle's mad at me."

Hermione was confused but decided to just go with it, if this was what Harry wanted to talk about. She waited for Harry to continue.

"Professor McGonagall thinks she might be in danger."

"Because of the newspaper photo and article?"

Harry glanced at Hermione and nodded, pride at his intelligent friend's quick analysis in his eyes. "She wants me to practice defense with her."

"Well, that's a good idea. You were a great teacher when you did Dumbledore's Army."

"Yes, but as I said-"

"Myrtle's mad at you," Hermione finished. "Yes, that does pose a problem," she said thoughtfully.

Looking at her best friend again, Hermione sighed. At least with Ron she never had to worry about interpreting girl behavior for him anymore, since she was the only girl she knew he worried about. But Harry was different, and for some reason he didn't seem to want to discuss Ginny. Hermione was going to have to think about what this meant eventually... Ginny was her friend as well. Hermione began explaining the most probable causes of Myrtle's behavior to Harry, since that was what he was probably wanting from her; she'd done this for him many times before. "I would imagine that right now Myrtle's feeling a bit confused. She just came back to life. She's been around as long as Professor McGonagall, yet she is younger than us physically, despite watching us grow up. You know she's always had a soft spot for you despite your treatment of her."

"I know," Harry said heavily. "When I'm just acting on instinct, people think that I'm being kind to all creatures and everyone. But I don't think I am."

Hermione watched her friend with a soft expression on her face. "Harry, you really are a great person; you underestimate yourself. You don't need to be perfect."

"Yes, but I can't help but feel that I should have visited her like I said I would. I mean, Draco Malfoy talked to her," Harry finished, perhaps a bit sullenly.

Hermione was silent, a bit surprised at this odd development, before asking cautiously, "Is that why she's mad at you?"

Harry nodded glumly.

Well, that was another thing to think about. Briskly, Hermione said, "Harry, just apologize to her."

"But-"

"She'll accept your apology." And if she didn't, Hermione was going to have something to say about it. Hermione thought she needed to talk with Myrtle as well as Ginny very soon...

"Think so?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Of course!" Hermione said with the authority of one familiar with her fellow females. "It will be better if you apologize to her rather than letting this get worse by waiting."

"Professor McGonagall took her to Hogwarts to visit the library," Harry said, already leaving thoughts of Hermione behind. "I'll go there right now," he said, getting up from his chair and jogging towards the room they Apparated from.

Hermione watched him go with a smile, shaking her head. Thoughtfully she began analyzing all of the new information she had gathered to decide what direction she needed to push things.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Draco strolled down the alley. As the war drew to a close, most of the places he had once possessed useful knowledge about had been abandoned by the side he was traitor to, but this area was one of those cesspools where darkness not attached to a side lived out its life.

Although most people on the light side shuddered away from such areas, Draco looked on many of them with fond childhood memories.

Out of the corner of his ever suspicious eye, Draco saw a shadow moving from shadow to shadow in the same direction he was heading. Casually, Draco turned around a corner and waited for the shadow to come around after him.

After the shadow edged around the corner, it materialized into a dark-cloaked figure that paused as it tried to figure out where its quarry had disappeared to.

"Is there a reason you're following me?" Draco asked nonchalantly, his wand held gracefully at the ready with no tension betrayed.

There was just the briefest, nearly imperceptible freezing in the dark-cloaked figure. "You're good," came a muffled, scratchy voice,"as good as I was told."

Draco arched an eyebrow although he knew the dark figure couldn't see him. "I'm still waiting for an answer."

"I don't mean you any harm."

"That would make you unusual. Why were you attempting to trail me unnoticed then?"

"I have a business proposition for you that is best broached in secret."

"A business proposition? And what could I possibly do for you?"

"You are familiar with the ghost 'Moaning Myrtle', are you not?"

Although Draco had already been on his guard, now he felt a wariness enter into him. He kept his tone neutral as he responded, "And if I am?"

"You may be aware of the fact that she has recently crossed from the deceased back into the realm of the living. In fact, she happens to be where you are in a position you could make it easier for us to... 'acquire' her."

"Acquire her? For...?" Although there was no hint outwardly, under the surface Draco's rage was beginning to boil.

"You'd be well-paid for helping us retrieve her and wouldn't need to know anything beyond that."

"And what makes you think I would be interested in your 'business proposition'?" Draco said, a dangerous coldness in his voice that didn't seem to affect the dark-cloaked figure.

There was a soft chuckle. "Everyone knows about your current situation. Are you trusting Potter and his cohorts to not imprison you, or are you planning to attempt to flee from them? And what are you going to do to survive if you flee?"

Draco was silent. The idea of fleeing had crossed his mind many times, but he'd have to leave most of Europe's wizarding world behind forever.

"I'll leave you to mull over that," the voice said, breaking into the reverie Draco had allowed himself to slip into.

Draco was opening his mouth to tell the figure there was no way he was going to just let them leave like that when he saw a little black ball rolling towards him. Suddenly the ball began rapidly spewing a noxious smoke that caused Draco to cough and his eyes to water.

Although his vision was obscured, Draco sensed the figure dart past him and out of the alleyway. Draco struggled to rush after but was too slow. Once he had reached the street, there was no sign of the dark-cloaked form. "Damn," he cursed under his breath.

He leaned back against a brick building wall while he attempted to recover from the aftereffects of the odd little ball. Well, what was he going to do with this interesting little development?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

In another manor elsewhere, a dark-cloaked figure Apparated in and walked to an elaborate and ornate dining room where a portly man sat stuffing his face.

"Well?" the fat man asked.

The dark-cloaked figure didn't kneel. This was an employee-boss relationship, not master and servant. "I think his interest was piqued, but he didn't seem as open to the idea as we had assumed he would be."

The man thought as he continued stuffing his face. "Hmmm, but the evidence has been planted?"

The dark cloaked figure nodded in confirmation.

The man smiled, and his beady eyes glittered with maliciousness that one wouldn't have expected from such a jovial-looking person. "Good," he said.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Minerva!" Myrtle said as she burst through the door of Professor McGonagall's office.

Minerva looked up, startled.

"Oh, I should have knocked!" Myrtle said in horror when she realized that was probably why Minerva looked so startled.

Minerva shook her head. "It's fine. What do you need?"

"I need to go back to Grimmauld Place right now!"

"Why?" Minerva asked in confusion. "You haven't been here long."

"Myrtle?" came a voice from behind her.

Myrtle turned around. "Harry! I was just coming to look for you."

"You were? I came here to look for you!"

"Really?" Myrtle said with a note of disbelief in her voice. Why would he be looking for her?

"Yes."

They both looked at each other quietly. Minerva, seeing that she had been forgotten, quietly closed her office door and left Harry and Myrtle alone. The silence continued as they each wondered if they should explain first, when they both blurted out simultaneously, "I'm sorry." Both of their jaws dropped slightly in shock.

After a few moments of silence, Myrtle took the initiative. "I'm so glad," she said, smiling. "This makes things so much easier."

Harry returned her smile and offered, perhaps still a bit cautious, "Would you like me to help you brush up on defense? Or other subjects?"

Myrtle was briefly surprised before saying, "Oh, yes! That would be wonderful." If anyone had experience when it came to defense, it would be Harry. And this would be a perfect opportunity to get to know him a bit better... and begin convincing him about Draco.

Harry felt himself smile again and almost reached out to take Myrtle's hand before stopping himself, feeling confused at the odd impulse. "Um, where would you like to go?" he asked to cover the moment.

"Back to Grimmauld Place would be fine," Myrtle said, smiling shyly.

Side by side they began walking towards the exit of the castle, Myrtle completely forgetting to say good-bye to Minerva. Harry felt pleased that he seemed to have managed to accomplish Professor McGonagall's and his goals without arising Myrtle's suspicions. Although he still wasn't sure that keeping this secret was the right thing to do, for now he would follow his mentor's lead.

Mere seconds after Harry and Myrtle had Apparated away, Draco Malfoy Apparated almost on top of where they had just been standing. Lost in thought, he walked up to Professor McGonagall's office and knocked.

"Enter," came Professor McGonagall's voice.

Draco opened the door and closed it quietly behind him.

"Malfoy," Professor McGonagall acknowledged him, for some reason seeming a bit nervous.

Draco inclined his head in acknowledgment. Silence reigned between them for a moment as they studied each other before Draco casually turned to face the window. Turning his back to Professor McGonagall was his way of letting her know subconsciously that he trusted her to not stab him in the back... for now. "After investigation, I saw enough evidence to support a raid."

"Is that all, Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall said crisply, not asking for details. In matters such as these, she still trusted Draco to do the job, Draco noted wryly.

"Yes."

"You may go then," Professor McGonagall said with a dismissive tone in her voice, returning to what she had been working on that had now been interrupted twice in a matter of minutes.

He bowed, not that Professor McGonagall saw it and then turned to exit the room. Before the door he hesitated, wondering if he should mention the cloaked figure's 'business proposition', before steeling himself and deciding to keep it to himself for now. He hadn't even seen Myrtle since she had come back to life. She probably didn't even care about him, and that information could be a potential bargaining card. For now he could just investigate on his own if he chose to.

**A/N: I think this is the longest chapter I've ever written! I'm so proud! ;; happy tears**


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